


Wasting Time

by turtlesparadise



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Friendship, Self-Harm, Substance Abuse, tough love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 09:43:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10988352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turtlesparadise/pseuds/turtlesparadise
Summary: General setting is post-plate drop on Sector Seven. Reno is sent to Rude's family home in Costa del Sol to recover, and has a bit of time to reflect upon his actions, and to deal with the guilt that he's been trying to deny he even had.  He turns to dubious, harmful, and somewhat illegal coping mechanisms in order to soothe the turmoil he feels within.Rated M for Reno's mouth, and reference to drugs/alcohol/self-harm.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This began as a drabble - that I wrote four years ago. I've decided to resurrect this old story and develop it further, after becoming re-inspired to write again.

The island breeze tickled Reno's nose as he took another sip of some sort of alcoholic beverage that had a decidedly citrus undertone to it. He made a face, grimacing. Not his preferred single malt scotch, but hey, booze was booze, Reno figured. Reno knew he shouldn't be drinking alcohol with the painkillers he was on, but at this point he didn't care. He needed to do something to stop the nightmares from haunting him each night, numbing himself with booze and prescription medication seemed like a damned good way to do it.

By all rights he should be dead. That bastard Cloud Strife had tried to run him through with the Buster Sword, and while he hadn't succeeded in killing Reno, the Turk was pretty badly hurt, and was currently recuperating at Rude's family home in Costa del Sol. He'd been airlifted from the ruins of Sector 7, following the plate drop. In one fell swoop, Reno had destroyed the slums where he'd spent his childhood, reducing them to rubble, killing innocents and low-lifes alike.

 _Just followin' orders_ , Reno thought, draining the rest of his drink. _Prez was pleased with my work, so was Tseng...AVALANCHE got the blame, for all I know they're dead too...s'not like I stuck around to see if they got out all right. Fuck them, anyway._ Reno's lips drew back in a sneer as he thought of those last moments before he boarded the chopper, bleeding and bruised, several of his ribs shattered. That one moment where his eyes locked with Cloud's, and Cloud saw what was in there. _Fear._ Fear that he'd gone too far this time, in following orders.

"It's not like I fucking _enjoyed_ dropping the Plate, gods damn it," Reno muttered to himself, wondering where Rude had gone off to. He looked out the window to the ocean; peaceful, calm, serene. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was soothing, though for a moment - Reno swore he could hear the screams of panicked citizens intermingled with the sounds of the beach, agonized shrieks of terror rang through his ears as the Plate came crashing down, crushing the residents of Sector 7.

Reno bared his teeth and drew his arm back, throwing his glass clear across the room, yelling, _"I'm losing my fucking mind!"_ It shattered into a hundred little sparkling shards, glittering on the hardwood floor. Reno walked over there, a sick grin on his face as he trod upon the broken glass, grinding his foot down upon it. A crimson pool formed between his bare toes, and the sick grin on his face grew wider.

 _Was it worth it? You happy now? Job well done, motherfucker, they're all dead!_ Reno sank to his hands and knees on the pile of broken glass, chest heaving and paining him from where his ribs were cracked and taped up; he was trying his damnedest to swallow a sob as he heard the sound of running feet approaching him.

Reno didn't look up to see who it was; with how broken he felt inside at that moment, he really didn't care.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reno's convalescence continues; he finds relief, but is it what he really needs?

It was Rude’s mother Zynia who had come running at the sound of glass shattering, clucking disdainfully and worriedly at Reno, armed with a roll of gauze and a bottle of.  She barked out an order to Rude in her native Cosi to get a broom and a dustpan, and soon, Reno heard his partner’s heavier footfall approaching.  Rude was silent as he cleaned up the shattered glass, glancing up every now and then to watch his mother tending to Reno.  The rage from a few moments before was quickly subsiding, giving way to numbness – and confusion.

“You need some fresh air,”  Zynia declared, casting a level gaze at Reno, ignoring his hissing and wincing as she rinsed the glass out of his foot and disinfected his wound, rolling gauze around the injury.  “Lucky for you, not deep cuts.”     Reno hung his head down, feeling like a first-rate asshole, and roughly three inches tall.  He waited, breath held, expecting Zynia to admonish him with ‘what the hell were you thinking?’ or something along those lines.  He felt deflated, disappointed almost, when she did not scold him.

But she said nothing, just continued to clean the wound thoroughly, patched Reno up, leaving him with instructions to keep pressure on the gauze until she returned.  Rude remained in the room, still sweeping, picking bits of glass out of the track of the sliding glass door.

“Partner….hey, Rude – I’m sorry,”   Reno uttered softly, eyes downcast.  Rude nodded and grunted in reply. 

“Just – try not to wreck my ma’s house, huh?”  Rude stood back up, broom and dustpan still in hand.  “You just need to get your head back on straight, Reno.  Give it a few days…you’ll bounce back.  You always do.”

“Because we’re Turks, yeah?”  Reno supplied with feeling, an unhappy smirk on his face.   The sentiment rolled off of his tongue automatically, but he did not sound as though he believed it.  It was part of what they did and who they were – part of the job, Reno reasoned _.  I just gotta get over it._

 _Just gotta get over the fact that I just pushed a button and crushed the place where I grew up – people, houses, families, just_ **gone** _._ Reno’s mother, his sister, and father were long dead – perished in a factory fire when Reno was only ten years old.

 _S’fine,_ he told himself.  _I got no one left there.  It shouldn’t bother me at all, man  -_

And yet it did.  He remembered his sister Renata, her friend Twyla – her _best_ friend – the one who’d gotten Reno to safety when the factory burned to the ground, his family trapped inside.  He was here because of her hauling him out of the dumpster he’d jumped into.

How many other people were under the plate, people he’d forgotten in that moment he’d pressed the button?  Marston, the guy who ran the fish and chip stand in Sector Seven; his little girl Daisy, who always smiled and pointed at Reno’s bright red hair any time he’d pass by.  Sometimes, he’d give the little girl a spare gil, or a random shiny thing he’d found somewhere that he knew she’d like.

_Families.  I killed_ **families** _.  No, can’t think about it, can’t think –_

Rude’s voice, low and steady, broke through Reno’s racing thoughts, like a shaft of sun cutting through morning fog. 

“Reno!”  Rude’s voice rose sharply, as Reno appeared not to hear him, just staring out to sea until he came back around.

“…..yeah?” 

“You were somewhere else, man.  Listen – ma’s right.  Let’s get outside, before you go crazy in here.”

Reno laughed, and nodded.   “Too late for that,” he muttered, carefully placing his feet into his sandals, taking care with the bandaged foot.  “I’m not going in the water  - “

“Just come outside. And don’t argue with me.” 

Reno sighed, dutifully followed along behind Rude, grimacing and hissing as he put weight on his foot. 

“Ah – shit, it hurts!  Nah, Rude – come on, man, just let me sit. I just cut my fucking foot open, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,”  Rude muttered, sounding more irritated than sympathetic.  “Come on…we’ll just sit out on the deck.  It’s not far.”   He gestured toward the slider doors, now open, and ushered Reno toward the two wooden deck chairs.

“Okay.  I can handle this, I guess,”  Reno sounded dubious.   He snarled, blinking against the harsh glare of the sun.   “Too fucking bright outside – “

“We’re in Costa, and it’s summer,”  Rude deadpanned.   “You’ll get used to it.   Don’t you have your shades?”   Rude, of course, already had his ever-present sunglasses _on_.

“No – I don’t have ‘em.  Must have lost them when I jumped into the chopper – “   Reno paused, face going pale.   “Ah shit.”   _Killed my fucking sunglasses, along with a hundred thousand people, but hey, them’s the breaks, right?_  

“Dude, my foot hurts,”  Reno grumbled, trying to forget about his gods-damned sunglasses, crushed to a thousand bits in the rubble of what _used_ to be Sector 7.

“Did you use a Cure yet?  Or how about Regen – “   Rude wasn’t big on materia, none of the Turks were really, all of them preferring hand-to-hand combat or any number of weapon specialties.   “Here – I’ve got a mastered one – “  

“Cool,”   Reno closed his eyes, rested his head backward, and felt the curative magic envelop him as Rude cast the spell.  He forgot, momentarily, that it was a Regen spell, and not a straight Cure spell.

“Oh – _oh yeah_ , that feels good,”  Reno murmured, feeling the magic spread through his body, dancing down each nerve ending, the wounded foot already healing.   A sense of relaxation soon gave way to a feeling of euphoria, and for the first time in weeks – the first time since it happened – Reno smiled.

It did not go unnoticed by Rude, either.   “Feeling better already?” he asked mildly.  Reno nodded his head vigorously.

“Hell yeah.  Thanks, partner.  I haven’t used Regen in ages – like, _damn_.  I feel a lot better, man.”

“Just be careful with that shit,”  Rude cautioned.  He leaned back in his own chair, and pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose.  “I’ve heard it can be habit forming.”

“Pfft,”  Reno scoffed.   “I’ll be fine.”  He eyed the green materia orb sitting on the table – Rude had just removed it from his bracer.

* * *

 

Reno _was_ fine, until the middle of the night, when the screams that were inside his head whenever he closed his eyes just _would not stop_ , grew louder and louder until he sat upright, clutching the sides of his head, rocking back and forth, silently sobbing.

“I can’t – I can’t do this anymore,”  he whispered in the semi-darkness of the bedroom.  He remembered how wonderful he’d felt earlier, it contrasted starkly with how completely miserable he was now. 

He remembered, too, that Rude had left the fully mastered Cure materia on the deck table.  Reno forced himself out of bed, anxiety giving him the shakes – his hand trembled as he undid the lock, quietly sliding the door open.

There it was, glistening green in the Costan moonlight _.  Just one more – can’t hurt to have just one more hit of Regen,_ Reno told himself.   He brought it back into bed with him, inserted it into his leather armband, and let out a soft moan as a green glow spread over his body, illuminating the entire room.

 _No big deal.  Nobody has to know._   

Yet as Reno lay his head back down on the pillow, he wondered why  - if no harm would come of using Regen, like he kept trying to convince himself – then why did he feel so damned guilty?

 

 

 


End file.
